She wandered the endless night, her tattered gown brushing against the fallen leaves, whispering tales of dreams scattered across the ages. Onward she moved, cradled by the shadows of memory, with each step etching stories onto the canvas of the forgotten.
Amidst the towering whispers, a solitary watcher stands, clad in frostbitten pride. The sentinel, with eyes as hollow as the moonless sky, guards the harrowing secrets nestled in dusk's embrace.
Echoes remain where warmth once lingered, shadows of laughter lost in time.